


Sunshine

by Teaotter



Series: Highly Compatible Kinks [4]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Crossdressing, F/M, promptfest vi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teaotter/pseuds/Teaotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you wish I was a man?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elrhiarhodan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/gifts).



> Written for Elrhiarhodan's Summer Madness Promptfest VI.

El is still sitting in front of the vanity mirror in their bedroom when Peter comes out of the bathroom. She hasn’t gotten any farther than the men’s briefs and white undershirt she was putting on earlier to disguise the binding around her chest.

Peter himself is most of the way into his outfit for the night -- gaffe, strapless bra, fake breasts shifting softly under the neckline of the full-length silk slip El bought him. It's their second anniversary, and they'd planned a full evening out, dinner and dancing at a discreet little club in the East Village.

Peter is looking forward to seeing El in his present to her, and normally he'd be thrilled to find her in the bedroom with her hand down her underwear, but she doesn’t look happy.

“Honey? Is something wrong?”

“I don't...” El pulls her hand back slowly, revealing the soft bulge under the slit of the briefs. Peter shivers at the sight, remembering the feel of the cyberskin packer in his hands and imagining it against her skin.

Then El puts her hand on the arm of the chair and turns to look at him, her eyes wide and unhappy. “Jerboa.”

“Okay, we're stopping.” Peter's brain swerves from anticipation to alarm. El never uses her safeword, and for a moment, he's not sure what to do. He grabs their bathrobes from the back of the closet and lays hers on the bed near her chair before shrugging into his. “What do you need?”

“I'm sorry.” She's crying. It makes Peter want to panic, but he has to hold it together until he can find out what's wrong, and then make sure it never happens again. “I thought I could do this –“

“You've got nothing to be sorry about.” Peter tugs her robe gently around her shoulders, and she turns into his arms. So he leans in and holds her. “You're fine.”

“I just feel so silly.” El sniffles and dries her cheek on his arm. “It's nothing, and I'm shaking.”

“Feelings aren't nothing,” Peter says firmly. “A wise woman once told me that.”

It earns him a tiny hiccup of a laugh, but that’s enough to let him breathe. “Only once?”

“Maybe more than once,” he admits. “But you have to know that none of this matters a bit to me if it doesn't make you happy.”

“It *does* make me happy. I love seeing you in a dress.” El raises her hands to his fake bosoms and squeezes. “These are fun.”

“I'm glad.” Peter feels awkward in them right now, when he's trying so hard to be protective. But anything that makes her feel better is worth it. “But you can change your mind, any time it stops being fun, and I won't say a word.”

El frowns. “I'm the one who talked you into this, remember?”

“I do remember, yes.” Peter buries his face in her hair and breathes in the scent of her shampoo. “But I'm trying to be supportive, here, and doing a lousy job of it. Unless -- am I supposed to be arguing with you?”

“No. I don't know!” El clenches her hands in the fabric of his robe. “I just –“

Peter gives her time to think. He hopes he’s projecting 'sympathetic listener' instead of 'implacable interrogator', but he can never be sure.

Eventually, El sighs, but her grip doesn’t ease. “Do you wish I was a man?”

“No! El. Of course not! What brought this on?” Peter clutches her more tightly, mind racing. They’ve been dressing up off and on for a year now, and she’s never even hinted at this. But maybe she's been worried the whole time and he missed the signs?

“It's just. This.” El takes his hand and slides it over her briefs. Peter's heart sinks as their fingers come to rest over the soft bulge of the packer he'd bought for her.

Peter rips his hand away. “I'm so sorry, El. If I'd known it would make you worry -- honey, I never wanted to hurt you –“

“Hush.” El grabs him before he can stand up, when he hadn’t even realized he was pulling away. “Stop freaking out on me.”

“But this is my fault!” Peter tugs against her hold again, but she won’t let go. “That’s it; we’re never doing this again –“

“Don’t you dare!” El is wrapped so tightly around him, Peter is afraid he’s going to lose his balance. “Don’t you dare close up on me!”

“I’m *hurting* you –“

“Supportive!” El’s voice is shrill, panicked, and for a moment Peter can’t even breathe. “This is *my* safe space – you don’t get to make decisions without me.”

Peter tries to settle back on his heels, and El tumbles out of the chair, knocking both of them flat onto the floor. That seems to be okay, though, because she just burrows against him there on the carpet. Peter holds her while their breathing gradually slows. He’s afraid to say anything.

Finally, El sighs. “When we started this. I thought it was about sex. But this isn’t like the strap-on.” She stops, and it takes her a long time to go on. “And I wondered if you missed having a man. Having a relationship with a man, I mean.”

Peter reaches up to stroke her hair, trying to find the words to explain why he wanted this. “You remember last weekend, when we were curled up on the couch watching infomercials til three in the morning, because we were both too tired to have sex but we didn’t want to go to sleep?”

“Yes.” El tilts her face up until his hand can cup her cheek briefly.

“It’s like that. It’s – intimate. And maybe it’s not about sex right then, but it’s still about sex.” Peter has to look at her face, and he hopes she can read him as clearly as she always has. “And it’s still about *you*.”

El’s eyes gradually lighten, and eventually the hint of a smile appears. For Peter, it’s just like the sun breaking through the clouds on a bad day.


End file.
